


Haven't I told you so (a million or more times)

by pengukat



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Character Death, F/F, Not A Happy Ending, Potential Future, Villanelle is a little prick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 12:32:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14873823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pengukat/pseuds/pengukat
Summary: At the end of the road, Eve and Villanelle have one final conversation.





	Haven't I told you so (a million or more times)

**Author's Note:**

> So like everyone else I had a ton of feelings after Killing Eve season 1. I wanted to make everything okay, but those assholes wouldn't cooperate, and instead this is the result. Now that I've gotten this out of my system, I'm going to do something happy and with rainbows.
> 
> I'm not an anatomy expert nor a psych expert so please forgive any liberties taken!

 

It was always going to end like this.

 

Eve knew this, or had known it for a long time, deep down, as she chased after Villanelle, the sole pinprick of light at the end of a tunnel -- but she'd never really been willing to admit it to herself or anyone else, even as the losses mounted, one after another. All there had been room for had been Villanelle - finding her, chasing her, catching her - the black hole around which everything that mattered to Eve had converged. What came beyond -- Eve had never had any endgame in mind after that.

 

Now, lying on her back, with everything gone to hell around her, with her end staring her right in the face, there was really no way to put the truth off any longer.

 

"I'm going to die," Eve said, quietly. "You're going to kill me."

 

Villanelle stood above her, very still, hands bloody at her side, a knife dangling loosely from one hand, her eyes bright and unblinking. Her face was impassive and perfect, a chiseled Roman goddess sculpture.  

 

 "This is what you've been waiting for." Eve paused to suck in a slow, shaking breath. "After everything. So many countries. So many--" Eve coughed, spitting. "-- I've lost track of their faces now. Everyone you've -- we've -- all because we --"

 

 Villanelle remained still. 

 

 For a few moments, there was no sound except the quiet rasping of Eve's breathing. 

 

"You're going to kill me," Eve repeated. Then added, "Please." 

 

Finally Villanelle moved, with a small, imperceptible shake of her head. 

 

"You've wanted to do this for so long now. You deserve this." Eve chuckled, or try to. She could taste blood. "I deserve this."  

 

"You deserve to go slowly," Villanelle whispered. "I did promise you it would be slow."

 

Eve closed her eyes at the sound of Villanelle's voice. She imagined honeyed rain, falling on gravel. She forced them open, holding Villanelle's gaze like a lifeline.

 

"Slow, AND painful," Eve agreed. "But at _your_ hand though. Not like _this_." 

 

  _This_ , being: slowly bleeding out from tiny wounds Eve could feel but couldn't place, one leg broken and twisted beneath her, an arm immobile, potentially hemorrhaging inside.

 

_How_ things had ended up like this - well, it didn't really matter. Following up on a small remote lead had somehow spiraled into a disproportionate disaster, as things always tended to do whenever Villanelle was involved. No - whenever Eve involved herself with anything to do with Villanelle, or when Villanelle involved herself with anything related to Eve. It was how things went. Throughout, they changed allegiances, bosses, colleagues, and locales, all in name of finding one another and staying one step ahead of one another. There was no way this could have lasted forever. So of course, finally, everything had caught up with her and blown up in her face spectacularly, leaving her all alone. Flat on her back, staring into nothing, slowly dying.

 

Until Villanelle found her.

 

Because of course Villanelle found her. She always did, just as Eve would find Villanelle, the two of them occupying the same space just long enough to confirm the other's existence and their continued desire to end the other, but not long enough to to finish the other off. It wasn't for lack of trying - every time they were within each other's grasp, close enough to see the black of the other's eyes, or to inhale the lingering scent of their perfume, something would happen. A rookie on Eve's team might leave an exit unguarded; Villanelle's intended target would disappear behind a blind spot... the encounters kept occurring and the body count kept rising. It couldn't have continued forever.

 

Some part of Eve had always felt she deserved some sort of divine punishment, for all she'd done - for what Villanelle had done, for what she'd made Villanelle do, for what Villanelle had made her do... and instead, she was being rewarded, with Villanelle right there with her at the end.

It was just the two of them, now. Eve couldn't count on a miraculous last minute rescue, or an ally of Villanelle's to come help her finish the job. Everyone else was gone. They'd both seen to that.

 

Eve had seldom allowed herself to wonder how this moment might go. There had been so many possibilities. She had not imagined that there would only be one thing that she wanted from Villanelle, and that the other woman would be oddly reticent to give it.

"Come on, do it. You'd better get a move on, or you're going to lose your chance," Eve urged. "I'm not going to hang around much longer. I don't know if you can afford to either." 

  

"I have all the time in the world," Villanelle said, rather ominously. "You, on the other hand..."

  

"Didn't figure you'd chicken out at the end," Eve baited, even though she knew Villanelle did not easily bite. "Guess you just don't have it in you to do it yourself, after all." 

  

"I can kill you whenever I want." Villanelle gritted her teeth. "I'm waiting for the right moment." 

  

"Self-restraint, huh? That's a new look for you."

 

 "I'm deciding how messy I want this to get." 

  

"Come on, don't get all shy now. You've been telling me for ages how much you want to do this." Eve added a high-pitched, girlish lilt to her words, one she'd often deployed to her own amusement and occasionally Villanelle's annoyance. 'I'm going to kill you with my bare hands! I'll snap your neck! I'll make you pay! I trusted you! You broke my --'"

  

Faster than Eve could follow, Villanelle dropped beside Eve's head and grabbed her by the jaw. Her other hand pressed the knife against the hollow of Eve's neck.

 

"I sound nothing like that." Villanelle sounded insulted.

 

"You broke my heart," Eve repeated, defiantly. She dropped the accent.

 

In the same hollow of Eve's neck where Villanelle had held a blade long ago, the same hand now pushed ever-so-gently, just enough to pierce skin. Eve tensed, Villanelle's face hovering above hers, close enough for Eve to inhale a familiar scent of perfume. It never failed to make her heart skip a beat. 

  

"Come on. Don't stop, keep going," Eve whispered. "Don't keep a girl waiting." 

  

"A long, slow death, remember?" Villanelle's voice was hoarse. "I'm going to draw this out. Make you beg for it."

 

Eve tentatively flexed her arm. It felt like someone else's.

 

With effort, Eve brought her hand to Villanelle's knife-holding one. When Villanelle didn't budge, Eve let her hand rest on top of Villanelle's, tracing the skin there with leaden fingertips. Villanelle exhaled, slowly, with a shudder, letting her eyelids flutter shut. Eve squeezed Villanelle's hand with as much warmth as she could. 

 

Before Eve could apply further downward pressure, Villanelle snatched the knife away.

 

"You can't make me," Villanelle snapped, the other hand tightening around Eve's jaw. "You can't make me do anything. Do you have any idea how angry I am with you?" 

  

"It's okay, Oksana," Eve breathed. "It's okay."

 

"Following half-baked intel, falling for some stupid trap." Villanelle raised her voice. "Not even a trap I set. Were you even trying? When did you start getting senile? Stupid, stupid! You stupid, useless--"

 

"There's no need for name-calling." 

 

"Stupid, useless bitch!  _Salope! Connasse! Fils de pute_!" Villanelle was quivering, the muscles in her neck taut and strained. Her eyes were shimmering, threatening to overflow.

 

Eve forced her hand to move higher, until her palm could rest upon Villanelle's cheek. Villanelle leaned into Eve's palm, eyes closed tight, taking a few, short, breaths. Then she jerked her head and chomped down on the hand like a vice, breaking the skin. Eve was reminded of a small terrier, jaws clamped unforgivingly on a slab of steak. She squealed. 

 

"Fuck, that really hurts, you freak --" As Eve tore her bleeding hand from Villanelle's mouth, Villanelle lunged for it with two hands and pressed it to her own face.

 

"I hate you so, so, so, so much." Eve felt every warm, muffled word against her bleeding palm. "I hate you more than anything else in the world. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."

 

"Then end it," Eve said quietly. "End me. Now." 

  

Villanelle inhaled deeply. She kissed Eve's knuckles.

 

"You should have let me fuck you. Just once."

The words were so unexpected, and yet so completely in character, that Eve felt herself knocked flat comfortingly familiar territory. The part of her brain responsible for matching wits with Villanelle, the part that delighted in in it, took over. "Gee, I wonder why that never happened. Maybe if you hadn't kept trying to kill me ... or the people around me ... or people in general ..."

"Come on, that's never really bothered you."

 

The part of Eve responsible for keeping her guard up, so that Villanelle's barbs wouldn't cut too deep was, as usual, doing a pitiful job. "Don't presume to know what matters to me and what doesn't." Eve let the hint of steel sit in her voice.

 

Villanelle leaned forward earnestly. "But you've always wanted to, right? Have sex with me."

 

"Pffff. Don't flatter yourself." 

"Admit it, Eve," Villanelle wheedled. "Can't you just be honest with yourself now, of all times?"

"Is this why you're dragging this out?" Eve said at last. "Because you want some kind of last-minute, full confession from me before time runs out?"

"I'm not asking you something we both don't already know the answer to." Villanelle traced her thumb over the back of Eve's hand. "I just ... I just want to hear you say it." 

"Fine. FINE. Yes, I have always wanted to fuck your brains out," Eve grumbled. "Wipe that stupid grin off your face. NOW can you help me?" 

"Can I fuck you now, then?" The look Villanelle gave her was too smouldering to be a complete joke. 

"Oh, my god, you freak. I am in so much pain right now."

"Good," Villanelle snarled, her face twisting unpleasantly in the space of a second. "I'm glad it hurts. I want you to hurt. I want your pain to last forever. Always, and always, and always, and always. Forever and ever."

"Can't you just be kind? For once?"

 

Villanelle didn't seem to hear her. "You're going to lie there, for as long as I want, for as long as you can, you're stuck here, with me, and there's nothing you can do about it, you're not going anywhere--"

 

As Eve listened to the jumble of words, the same words repeating over and over, realisation dawned on her, gradually.

Eve closed her eyes. Counted to ten, then ten again. She focused on the taste of blood on her mouth, on Villanelle's crushing grip of her hand, on the emotion in Villanelle's voice. The screaming in her body pulsed and waned. She breathed in, and breathed out. She met Villanelle's eyes.

 

"Oksana," Eve said gently and insistently. "Oksana."

Villanelle stared back. 

 

"What do you want?" Eve asked. "What do you want from me? What are you waiting for?"

Villanelle opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again. She seemed at a loss for words.

"Do you want to tell me something? Is there something you want me to hear?" Eve tried. "Or is there something you wanted to ask me? Something you just have to know, or..."

Villanelle furrowed her brow intensely for a few moments, before she brightened. 

"Want to watch a movie? I have this awesome streaming app on my phone that gives me access THOUSANDS of pirated shows." 

 

"Oksana..."

"No? Then, on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain? I hope it's, like, at thirty-four."

Eve decided to ignore her. She wouldn't give Villanelle the pleasure.

"Tell me you love me." 

It took a second for it to sink in. 

"Do you have any food in your pockets?" Villanelle continued. "I'm hungry." 

"I love you," Eve breathed out. The words felt heavy, oddly-shaped and pleasant in her mouth. "I love you." 

Villanelle's lip quivered. "Do you mean it?"

"Don't ask me when you already know the answer."

 

"I killed your family. I killed your friends. I killed the people you worked for. Do you mean it?"

 

"I love you," Eve repeated. Now that she was saying it, she didn't want to stop.

 

Villanelle's expression softened. "Eve, don't take this the wrong way, but you are SO fucked up." 

 

"Oh, you have no idea about the depths of my depravity." Eve felt strangely giddy.

 

Villanelle raised her eyebrows. "Ooh, do tell."

 

"Well, I'm told I take environmentalism too far. I only flush the toilet when I shit, to save on water." Eve dropped her voice conspiratorially. "I'll wear underwear more than once before I wash it."

 

"Eve, you are truly disgusting," Villanelle said in mock horror, a hint of a smile on her lips. 

 

"I eat bananas the RIGHT way, from the bottom up. I'll eat bacon with anything. Literally anything. Chocolate-covered bacon. Bacon-wrapped sushi. You name it."

 

"Stop, stop, I can't handle it anymore." Villanelle was smiling for real now. The sight made Eve's heart soar. 

 

"I have imaginary conversations with you in my head." Eve squeezed Villanelle's hand. "Like, whole conversations about how my day went. What colour curtains I should buy, which flavour toothpaste is the worst. The history of the world. When Macchu Picchu and the Great Barrier Reef will disappear." 

 

Villanelle leaned forward eagerly. "What do I say in these conversations?"

 

"All you do is disagree with me. You're a giant pain in the ass." 

 

"You don't know that. Come on, which toothpaste do you think is the worst?"

 

"Mint, for sure. Whoever invented mint toothpaste is the devil."

 

"I totally agree! It's such a confusing experience. I mean it!" Villanelle exclaimed when Eve looked dubious. "I can be very agreeable. Let's try another one. What's your favourite movie?"

 

"I don't -- I don't actually have one," Eve realised. "I didn't have a lot of time for movies. I was busy with... things."  

 

There was an awkward silence.

 

"Do you like sushi?" Villanelle said. "I love sushi."

 

"Yeah, I do. Look, Oksana ... "

 

"I really like tuna. High grade tuna though, not the cheap stuff. How about you?" 

 

"Oksana, we're not going to be able to do this."

 

"Not going to be able to do what?"

 

"Have all the conversations you wish we could have had," Eve said softly.

 

"I tried fugu once, just for fun. It's pretty overrated, I have to tell you. It's fun knowing you could die any time while eating it, but the taste? Not really my thing."

 

"Tell me about yourself," Eve suggested. "Tell me what you were like when you were a child."

 

Villanelle stiffened. "You don't want to hear about that."

 

"Tell me ... tell me about something important to you, then. Tell me what you think about, when you wake up, when you go to sleep at night."

 

"Now who's asking questions they already know the answer to?"

 

"Maybe I just want to hear you say it."

 

"Fine, drag it out of me," Villanelle said dramatically. "Food! I think about food a lot. They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day, but the research on that is inconclusive, you know. You never did tell me what kind of sushi you like, by the way."

 

Eve sighed. She gave in. "Salmon roe. I like the rolls with the little fish eggs on time." 

 

"Oh, yeah! When you bite into them and they just explode in your mouth?" 

 

Eve's vision was dimming around the edges. "What else do you like to think about, Oksana?"

 

"Clothes. What I'm going to wear the next morning. Sometimes I like to plan it out in my head, but when I wake up and then I'm just like, I totally feel like something else, you know?"

 

"I can picture it," Eve said softly. "How about before a kill? Do you plan your outfit before your kills, too?"

 

"While we're on the topic of clothes!" Villanelle clasped Eve's hand with glee. "I'm so glad you've liked the clothes I've given you. It was very nice of you to leave me that recording of you masturbating in that dress that time. Definitely one of my top five favourite presents from you."

 

"Oh, that? You mean that trap I set for you?"

 

"You didn't really think a trap like that would work on me, did you? You just wanted me to watch you masturbate." 

 

"Yes, that definitely was it. You saw right through me."

 

"I always do, Eve," Villanelle said confidently. "I know you better than you know yourself." 

 

"Oksana, what am I thinking right now?"

 

Seconds ticked by. The silence turned into a minute.

 

"Come on, not even a guess?" 

 

"You're thinking about me, of course." 

 

"Good guess." 

 

"Naked." Villanelle waggled her eyebrows.

 

"Not quite." 

 

"You're thinking that ... maybe I haven't killed you yet, because I can't bear to see you dead." Villanelle leaned in closer. "Because you're so important to me that I can't imagine a world where you don't exist." 

 

"Is that so," Eve said quietly.

 

"But part of you is wondering if what you've suspected all along is true." Villanelle pressed her forehead to Eve's. "That I've never been capable of killing you, Eve. Maybe all this time you've gotten away was because I let you."

 

"Is that so."

 

"All this time, maybe you just had to ask and I would have surrendered to you. And you're afraid of what that means," Villanelle said. "That every single choice that has led you to this moment has been entirely unnecessary. All those plans you made because you were afraid of me. All those losses. All those people that died because of you."

 

"Okay, now you're just being an asshole. You literally just pulled that out of your ass right now."

 

"That's not what literally means, Eve." Villanelle nuzzled her nose against Eve's. The world shrunk to the space between Villanelle's eyes. "You have literally wasted your life on me. That's how you use the word."   

 

"Well, which is it then?" Eve breathed into Villanelle's cheek. "You've never been able to kill me, and everything I've done because of you has been a lie? Or you can't live without me?"

 

"You're a smart woman. What do you think?" Villanelle's lips ghosted over Eve's jaw.

 

Eve smiled. "I'm pretty sure it's neither."

 

Villanelle's head jerked back.

 

"You're only having trouble killing me now because I've been such a significant part of your life for so long, and now that you're actually confronted with the reality of me not being there, you're afraid of change. It's classic separation anxiety."

 

"Eve, what? No, I--"

"You're going to do fine without me. You'll miss me, of course, but that's to be expected after any loss to routine. In fact, you'll probably be back to normal in, oh, a month or so. That should be enough time for someone else they'll send after you. They know your profile now -- thanks to me, of course -- so don't worry, they'll definitely send someone who's your type. Good luck to her," Eve added, under her breath. "You'll get over me in no time."

 

Villanelle looked genuinely stunned. "That's -- that's not true, I --"

 

"I think you want it to be true," Eve said matter-of-factly, without rancor. "Maybe part of you even believes it -- that there's some glamorous, romanticised version of our relationship that you can just walk out of here with. And -- and I wish there was one. You know I do. Bloody hell, I've always, always, wished that I was special to you. Different. That I was somehow immune to dying at your hand. But you've nearly killed me, more than once; I have the scars to prove it." 

 

"If I wanted you dead, you'd already be--"

 

"Luck? Chance? I'm surprised I've lasted this long. It wasn't going to last forever. And honestly, I wish you could be broken up about me forever. I want to haunt your every waking moment until you die," Eve spoke urgently. Now that she had given permission to herself to say it out loud she wanted it all out there at once. "Part of me hopes that the moment I die you'll be overcome with grief just kill yourself to be with me. But we know you won't. You're not built that way."

 

"You're the most important person in my life." Villanelle sounded so young.

 

"I'm just a, a shadow of a ghost you're obsessed with. You'll replace me easily enough." Eve forced herself to lock eyes with Villanelle. "You're going to bounce back from this right as rain. I know it. And honestly, that makes me really happy. It's the only part of any of this that makes any of this okay for me."

 

Villanelle's jaw moved silently in protest. If part of Eve was disappointed that Villanelle couldn't form a response, the rest of her was clear-eyed. More than anything, the clarity was something she could to hold onto, as everything else slipped away. 

 

"Listen, could you do something for me?" Eve said. "From now on, when you kill - can you only kill the bad guys? Only the people who deserve it?"

 

"Eve," Villanelle said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "they all deserve it."

 

"Right. Of course." Slowly, Eve began to laugh. Slow, creaking wheezes rattled through her body. "Could you... could you stay a while?"

 

Villanelle leaned forward, and kissed Eve deeply, hungrily, as if she were trying to inhale some of Eve into her lungs. Her eyes remained open throughout. It was like looking into a dark, glittering cave, full of impenetrable secrets. Eve didn't want it to end. But it had to.

 

Villanelle looked into Eve's eyes. "I'll think about you all the time. I'll remember you always."

 

Eve managed to raise an eyebrow.

 

"Okay, I'll think of you every time I eat sushi." 

 

"Well, that's something, at least."

 

"Every time I wear a scarf. Every time I kill someone hunting me down. Every time I fuck someone with great hair."

 

"Okay, now you're overselling it."

 

Then Villanelle stood up. 

 

"Are you -- not going to see me off, then?" Eve managed to keep her voice from rising. She wasn't going to let Villanelle see her panic, or her heart sink. 

 

Villanelle looked back. "You always act like you know everything." Her tone was clipped, all warmth drained from her words. "You think you're so smart." 

 

Eve's throat tightened. "I hope they catch your sorry ass."

 

"No, you don't." From that distance, Eve couldn't see the other woman's expression. "I'll miss you. I really will. Goodbye, Eve."

 

Villanelle disappeared from view. 

 

"Bitch." The word hung in the air, powerless and lingering.

 

It didn't seem right to Eve for those to be her last words. "Oksana," she tried. That felt too much like a surrender. "Villanelle. Villanelle, if only -- oh hell, you're a bitch."

 

It was getting darker. The pain was incessant. 

 

She summoned names and faces from her past, and let them die on her lips. She didn't have the right to say their names anymore. Memories and shared moments that had been sacred, and warm, and safe - those no longer belonged to her; she wasn't allowed to linger in them now. 

 

She heard, more than felt, the sound of a low, keening moan. Maybe it was probably coming from her. She imagined it was Villanelle, just outside the door, unwilling to leave, unable to watch, doubled over in anguish. The thought was ridiculous and comforting. More than once, it even felt like it was real.

 

She kept coming back to the same nostalgic grey-brown memory, the only place in her memories that was hers, for good. Rustling dry bedding. Soft trusting eyes, bruised skin, feather-light fingers, the smell of fear and want and desire, and underneath, a drumming, persistent wail of pain.

 

Eve was there for a long time. 

  


End file.
